When the Fourth Wall Comes Down Pt 1
by Taylor Hayes
Summary: Pt.1: Revenge of the Slashed. Dean convinces Cas to pull in characters from all over to get revenge for being unfairly slashed. And they are NOT amused.
1. Revenge of the Slashed Part I

_**a/n So, just fyi, this little ficlet turned kind of enormous before I knew what was happening, and will definitely be a guilty pleasure. I mean, taking a bunch of my favorite characters and dumping the whole slash thing on them? Where does that NOT make my life? Also, if there is an actual "angelxspike4evr", I apologize. I needed a name on the spot, and that's what I came up with.**_

**PART 1.1: REVENGE OF THE SLASHED**

"I assume you're all curious as to why we brought you here today-" Dean Winchester began.

"And how," Sam Winchester added, annoyed.

"Yeah, well, that's kinda secondary, Sammy," the older brother growled.

But the looks the group of men were sending him suggested they did care to know what the hell was going on. And quite a few of them were clearly doing their best not to attack the boys.

At that, Castiel and the Doctor, both in suits and trenchcoats, stepped forward.

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord-" the first began, voice low, gravelly, and intensely serious.

Only to be cut off by the other man, grinning like a fool, "And I'm the Doctor. Hullo!"

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. "Yeah, whatever. Cas knows the Doctor, and the Doctor's a Time Lord who can travel through -you guessed it!- space and time, and he's the one who found you all and brought you all here."

Sam stepped back up. "Any questions?"

When the room erupted in angry voices, and the four at the front stared around in confusion.

"GUYS!" Dean shouted, "Can we please get back on the friggin' subject already?"

Sam, who was the cause of the commotion, looked down at his shoes, shamefaced.

As the room quieted, the older Winchester began to speak. "Thank you!" Eyes sweeping the assemblage, Dean sighed. "Okay, look. Sam and me, we've got this idiot prophet named Chuck who's writing the "Winchester Gospel". But as crappy fiction. Which is how all these psycho fans know about our lives. And they were creepy, sure, but whatever. We didn't give a crap. Until we found this thing called _fanfiction_. And…" Here he stopped, and a disgusted shudder shook its way through his whole body. "_Wincest_."

The way he spit out the word, then appeared to be so wrathful that he couldn't continue made those watching distinctly uncomfortable.

With a long-suffering huff, Sam stepped up and continued. "When I looked a little more, turns out all of you guys were in there too. In- um… what are called, uh, "slash fics". Which means, like, Dean-_slash_-Castiel. As in two guys, _together_."

At the blank looks, Sam reached over and punched Dean's shoulder. Hard.

"Dammit, Sammy!" the older brother growled, rubbing his arm. Finally, he focused back on the rest of the males in the room. Shifting awkwardly for a moment, the set of his face became resigned, and he reached down and picked something up off the chair in front of him. Lifting it, he dropped an enormous pile of papers onto the table top, which landed with a heavy "BANG".

It appeared to be any number of sheets, stapled together into smaller sections. Picking up the first one, which was about ten papers long, Dean cleared his throat.

"This one involves Sherlock Holmes and Dr. James Watson."

He handed it to Sam, who went bright red. "Dude, I am _not_ reading this out loud."

"Come on, Sammy," Dean pleaded. "We've gotta make these guys realize how serious this is."

As the two brothers continued to glare at each other, and everyone in the room waited for one of the other to back down, the man who had identified himself as simply "The Doctor" chuckled. "Here, allow me." Stepping forward, he snatched the pages away, pulled on a pair of thick-framed, rectangular reading glasses, and began to skim the black lines of text, commenting as he read. "Well, this apparently involves Dr. Watson on his wedding day to someone named 'Mary'. And he's hesitant for some reason, and then Mr. Holmes shows up and begs Dr. Watson to come on a quick walk with him because he desperately needs to share something with Dr. Watson. And he tells Mr. Holmes no, but it turns out not to matter, since he has paid off someone to slip a sedative in the good doctor's morning tea.

"He carries off the unconscious Dr. Watson, and when he wakes up, he is handcuffed to the headboard of an unfamiliar bed. And-

"Aah! Here we go! This must be the part that had the Winchester brothers in such a tizzy."

His voice deepened dramatically, and the shocking words rang through the silent air. "'_Then Holmes was kneeling between his legs, leaning in, hands slipping closer to the aching bulge that begged for the eccentric detective's touch._

"_Yet he knew he must protest, must stop Holmes before his body's desires overcome his rational mind. "_Now_, Holmes? You chose to finally acknowledge something I spoke of so long ago -when you have no cause to believe I still want you with such desperation- on the day I am to marry the woman in whose pleasant company I wish to spend the remainder of my life?"_

"_With a wicked smirk, Holmes allowed his fingers to move the final few inches upwards, and the resulting low groan that ripped from the doctor's throat, and the way his body arched up into the touch only made the expression of confident self-satisfaction deepen. "I think that is answer enough as to the question of whether you still find yourself caught up in lurid dreams of me."_

"_Breathless, unable to even think, Watson could no more stop himself from letting out little whimpers, than he could pull his eyes away from that too observant gaze, dark with lust…'_

"And then from there, it's a bit of clothing being torn, and-" He broke off, eyes going wide, and he whistled, long and loud. "I've been around a long time, and even _I_ think this is absurd." But he didn't put it down. Instead, the Time Lord continued reading, eyebrows going up. "And there go the clothes altogether, but the handcuffs stay on, and there's an appalling amount of guilt swirling around about that fiancé woman, which appears to only make everything go "bang" that much quicker. Gracious…"

That was when Dean took back the focus, pulling another pile from beneath the table, this one smaller, but still sizable, and pushed it over to the two wide-eyed gentlemen who had just been featured prominently in a fangirl's wet dream.

Hesitantly, the more sharply dressed man in the bowler reached forward and tugged the collection nearer, as the messily put together one reached eagerly for the top grouping of pages.

The quiet returned while the two began to read.

"Fascinating," Holmes muttered.

"This isn't _illegal_ here?" Watson demanded, flabbergasted at the utterly crude paragraph he was having trouble finishing, as he fought the instinct to flinch away and go throw himself off a bridge.

And down the line it went, one fandom after another forced to face the world as their sexually-repressed fans wrote it.

**- Star Trek -**

Kirk took the papers, and spent a few seconds flipping through them, skimming. He did this bent over the paper so that it was blocked from the view of his crew members. When he looked up, his eyes were glinting with that teasing light that everyone on the _Enterprise_ found hilarious, while simultaneously picturing a planet exploding.

"Why, Bones, Spock, I had no _idea_ you cared about me that much!"

And poor little Chekov was unable to stop reading, engulfed in the horror of being the youngest, most "innocent" member of the group - which, in fangirl, appeared to mean ending up with every single male member of Star Fleet he had ever met.

**-Good Omens-**

Staring down at the page, Aziraphale sighed and snapped a soothing cup of tea into existence. "Why am I not surprised?"

Crowley, however, was eagerly pouring over the inappropriate fan creations. As he giggled over one that involved "involuntary wing!stimulation", he raised an eyebrow at his tweed-clad counterpart. "I suppose you're going to mention this is all just another odd quirk in the ineffable plan, angel?"

The blonde man simply took another calming sip of his tea, which abruptly turned into good red wine. With an annoyed glare at Crowley ("Really, dear?"), he simply took a long swallow, then held out the cup for a refill. Happily, the demon pulled the bottle of alcohol out of midair, poured the heavenly messenger a drink, then filled up his wineglass*.

**- Psych -**

With difficulty, Gus was controlling his irrepressible gag reflex.

Lassie peered over the shorter man's shoulder, and his mouth dropped, face going pale, then red, as his jaw clenched and he automatically reached for his sidearm.

Shawn, meanwhile, grinned easily and announced, "Check it out! We're "_Shassie_"! I couldn't have done better myself! …Well, okay, I could have, but-"

**- Harry Potter -**

As the papers floated down in front of the wizards, Harry stepped closer and studied the words, then reared back, looking like he wanted to vomit.

Meanwhile, Snape was repeatedly snarling "_Inferno!_", and all the stories involving him went up in flames, until all that remained was a large pile of ash.

The Weasley twins were laughing their heads off, as they read through a story labelled "Neville/Ron". But it stopped as soon as said little brother passed them a new sheet, where the character relationship was defined as "twincest".

And Malfoy, was flipping through the abomination he had received, muttering the different curses and hexes he would be using on whoever had written such "degrading, disgusting filth!"

**- Firefly -**

Simon fearfully reached out towards the small tower, only to have the offending articles snatched away by Mal, even as Jayne was moving towards them.

"Alright, boys, let's size it up." They both watching in alarm as Mal's face went from it's usual easy humor, and turned dark and as mad as they had ever seen him, before he burst out, "_Qing wa cao de liu mang! Wang ba dan-! Juh shi suh mo go dohng shee?_"

That was the moment when the other men decided they really didn't want to read whatever the pages said.

**- Criminal Minds -**

The BAU male team members each took a part of the pile and began studying it the way they would something left by an unsub. Then Reid began to squirm in his chair, Morgan shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, and Hotch asked, "Is it just me, or do most of these prominently involve Spencer?"

Morgan, Gideon and Rossi all nodded, while Spencer sank even lower in his seat, putting down the bit he was holding and pushing it firmly away from him.

**- Glee -**

Puck smirked when he first accepted his "fanfic". But as it continued, his cheeks flamed red, and he looked like nothing so much as a murderous, mohawked tomato. "Hummel _tops?_ No way in hell, man!"

The others all peered round at this outburst. Finn turned back to his reading and his ears went bright red. Will was outraged, only managing half-sentences, "I would never-! And with a student-! That's just-!"

Meanwhile, Kurt sat back and calmly read on, secretly delighted that so many people were fans who agreed that he should get all the gay sex he wanted. But the emotional bits were making him flush a light pink, especially when he glanced over at Blaine, who also appeared engrossed in his reading.

Then Blaine looked up, eyes meeting Kurt's, and chuckled, before softly whispering, "Klaine, huh?"

As the blush deepened, Kurt quickly turned away and tried to look as offended as his friends.

**- Leverage -**

"Ho-lee…" Hardison trailed off, before he literally tipped his chair back and away from the sheets spread out before him. "Oh, no. _No_, man! That just- that ain't right!"

Eliot was growling low in his throat, the expression on his face one that Parker called his "bad guys are gonna die" look. On the other hand, Nate's eyes were shooting back and forth, from the paper, to around the room. And the way his hand was twitching suggested he really needed a drink.

**- 21 Jump Street -**

Hanson looked like he had been slammed over the head with a hammer, as he slowly pulled the papers toward him. The other four officers leaned over while Hanson turned one page after another.

"Geez, Tommy," Penhall whistled as he grabbed one particular pile off the stack. "You're in, like, every single one'a these."

Booker, on the other hand, had a cynical eyebrow raised. "Why the _hell_ would I go for this skinny dweeb-" He waved at Hanson. "-_or_ that fat idiot?" This time, a finger was pointed at Penhall.

"That's okay, man," Penhall shuddered. "You ain't exactly my type."

**- Star Wars -**

Han Solo was wishing he was back in his safe (if very, very uncomfortable and disconcerting) carbonite slab. Or even to just be blind again, so that he couldn't read any of this crap.

Likewise, Luke was pale as a sheet and doing his best to avoid meeting eyes with his father, who stood behind him in his black robotic suit, trembling with rage.

Chewy simply let out a whining growl and helplessly shook his huge, furry head.

**- The Justice League -**

The well-muscled group of superheroes in brightly colored spandex courageously stepped forward, following the Batman. Gloved fingers caught the top sheet, and despite the explicit scene he was reviewing, no emotion crossed his face. Only those who knew him well recognized the tightening of the lines around his mouth, and how his back became just a bit stiffer. Superman knew that the only thing that would cause such a reaction was rage.

Which meant that the Kryptonian really, _really_ didn't ever want to read any of the stories in question.

Especially when Batman began skimming the papers and dividing them into piles.

When the Flash moved forward in the blink of an eye, reaching, Batman's hand instinctively shot out, fisting around the speedster's wrist. "Don't."

"Well then, tell us what we're missing out on," the red-suited man protested.

With a glare, the black figure pointed at each pile. "They're all sexual situations. These ones involve Superman and Batman. These are the Flash and Green Lantern. These, the Flash and Batman. These, Martian Manhunter and _everyone_. And this-" Here his finger tapped on the pile that was expanding the fastest. "-involves threesomes between Batman, Superman and the Flash."

Behind his cowl, the speedster's eyes went wide. "Well, that's… awkward. Really, really, _really_ awkward."

**- House, MD -**

House propped his feet up on the table as entertainment crossed his face. "Well, Wilson, I guess I _am_ to blame for all those failed marriages of yours."

His best friend had dropped his forehead heavily onto the table and groaned, covering his head with his arms.

The other men continued looking through the papers like case files, and Foreman and Taub both wore the same look, trying to decide whether to be offended or relieved that they didn't really feature in any of the porn so far.

Chase, on the other hand, was bright red.

"Also," House continued. "Amber was just a female version of me, and you fell for her because it was the closest you thought you would ever get to being with me. Wow, Wilson. For being such a man-whore, you have a shocking amount of repressed gayness."

Another groan from the oncologist met this statement.

**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel -**

Xander did his best to avoid everyone's eyes, Angel was two seconds away from vamping out, Lindsey had been taking notes on how best to sue and/or curse these "fangirls", and Conner just wanted to find Willow and have her make a potion or perform a spell that would wipe all memory of this entire meeting from his spasming brain.

And Spike was shaking his head in confusion. "That's bonkers. Who interprets Robin asking if any of us _haven't_ slept together and one awkward exchanged glance as meaning I was having a bloomin' _sex affair_ with _funny boy?_" He waved one sheet around wildly, as he continued ranting. "And whoever the hell this gal, 'angelxspike4evr' is, I'm going to hunt her down and bloody _kill her_."

**- Castle -**

Ryan and Esposito were both doing their best not to react to the stuff they were reading, and then they shared a look.

"I dunno whether to laugh or go shoot someone," Ryan admitted.

Esposito shrugged. "Castle's been writing shit like this about us since he started the Nikki Heat series. I mean, it isn't exactly _new_."

"Yeah, but that's _Castle_," his partner protested. "He's a crazy author who stalks Becket and keeps us entertained. These are random strangers writing about how Jenny was only ever a cover to try and protect me from getting my heart broken by _you_. And they keep writing Lainey as a controlling bitch who I have to man up and save you from."

"Okay, _that_ pisses me off," the other man frowned, flipping through another offering of unending smut.

Then they both straightened and spun to face each other at the same time, speaking in synch. "Castle can't ever find out about this!"

**- Doctor Who/Torchwood -**

Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones stood at ease behind the Doctor, who was intently studying a new story. Rory peered over his shoulder, mouth wide open and panic growing in his eyes.

Jack leaned closer to his friend. "With the way he's so interested, I'm beginning to wonder if I should be worried about my virtue."

Ianto simply answered, "What virtue? You're attracted to anything with a pulse, why not a Time Lord?"

The look of fake shock and grieving Jack aimed at the shorter man was met with that infuriating smirk. And Ianto simply continued, "At least the pairing of us is based on reality."

"Yep. And the women just love it."

At that, the shorter man just rolled his eyes.

Then the Doctor started giggling, and they both turned fathomless expressions on the alien.

"He's not allowed near any writing instruments until he has something else to obsess over."

"Agreed, sir," Ianto answered automatically, then tilted his head to the side. "I've a question to ask the Winchesters."

Jack winked. "And I think I know what is. Give 'em a minute and then we'll go ask."

"Yes, sir."

"_Ianto_."

"Right. Sorry, Jack."

**- Dresden Files -**

While Harry's eyes grew wider and wider, Butters hands started to shake and his stomach rebelled, Kincaid raised an eyebrow as he reached for a particularly sharp knife, and Michael clutched his hands together, eyes tightly closed and murmuring a prayer, Thomas was chuckling.

With a wide grin, he turned to his brother and wiggled his eyebrows. "Ooooh, Harry. You're so big and strong in that sexy leather duster, and it makes me feel all protected from my family and my big, bad self. Please, Harry, take me now," he mocked. Picking up a new story, he began laughing out loud. "Damn, there are some seriously kinky chicks involved in this. Remind me to find them and ask to borrow the handbook for these 'hurt/comfort' ones. I mean, _'…he leaned over his brother's wounded body, tears dripping down his cheeks to scatter across Thomas' pale skin, perfect but for the bruises and cuts that littered his flesh. "God, Thomas, I am so sorry. That should have been me! It should have been me…"_

"_The vampire reached up and ran a bloody hand over his wizard's craggy cheek. "I guess you'll just have to be the one nursing me back to health," he teased softly, before coughing and choking on his own blood.'_

"They really like to see us all beaten up and taking care of each other. And then it turns into crazy, gay, monkey sex." Looking over at Harry, Thomas jokingly threw him a disappointed, pouty face, "How come I didn't get any the last time you were taking care of me after I got hurt?"

The man in question didn't even glance up as he took the empty coffee cup in front of him in hand, before chucking it at his brother. Thomas casually caught it and just kept laughing.

Sam and Dean stood back from the other males, watching the varied reactions.

"Do you think we should start passing out the hardcore, PWP fics yet?" Sam suggested.

Dean sneered. "If they're reacting this way to the T-rated stuff, I really don't think they're ready for anything worse."

"Yeah. …maybe this wasn't the best idea, Dean."

Rolling his eyes, Dean threw an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Maybe not. But just think about what we can do to those slash writers with all these guys being super pissed. Things are about to get good."

**tbc…**

*****Which everyone was quite sure had not been there a moment ago.

_**a/n2 So here's the list, just to remind you what fandoms I am enjoying screwing with: Supernatural, Sherlock Homes, Star Trek, Good Omens, Psych, Harry Potter, Firefly/Serenity, Criminal Minds, Glee, Leverage, 21 Jump Street, Star Wars, JLU, House, BtVS/Angel, Castle, Doctor Who/Torchwood, aaaaand the Dresden Files. *wink* Thanks for reading!**_


	2. Feminine Interlude

**When the Fourth Wall Comes Down**

**Feminine Interlude:**

Meanwhile in a dimly lit karaoke bar, conveniently housed in an undisclosed location, a similar gathering of females was occurring.

"It doesn't make sense. They can't just _disappear_," Detective Juliet O'Hara sighed. Nymphadora Tonks passed the blonde a cocktail, which she gratefully sipped. On the other side of the table, Detectives Kate Beckett, Karen Murphy, and Judy Hoffman also sighed.

"I agree. I mean, Alastor can be a pain in the ass-"

The police women chimed in. "That's Castle, all right." "Harry's more an enormous migraine in the making." "Shawn and his psychic 'visions'…" "The fights that Tommy and Dennis get into, not to mention Ioki's wardrobe and Doug's never ending smartass comments-"

"But he's still my partner," the currently purple-haired gal finished, biting her lip.

At another table, Hermione Granger, Nyota Uhura and Zoe Washburne sat together, making a list.

"So what you're saying is that _two_ of the male members of your fandom are still around?" the bushy-haired witch frowned. "Why those two?"

"Wash and Shepherd, y'mean?" Zoe asked, then shrugged as she downed a shot. "I really couldn't tell ya."

Uhura rubbed at her temples. "I can't say I necessarily miss all the men. But without Spock, things are a mess. Without Dr. McCoy, very little is getting done in the MedBay. And -I hate that I have to admit this- without the Captain, we're uselessly drifting in space. We need them back before the Enterprise falls into complete anarchy. The females onboard are not taking the lack of good looking men well." Then she nodded over towards the dance floor, "As you can see."

On and around the dance floor was a large gathering of women, who apparently didn't care and just wanted to party.

"If this is the end result, Alien Boy should go mysteriously swanning off more often!" Donna Noble shouted over the music. Doctor Remy Hadley, more commonly known as "Thirteen", nodded her agreement, throwing her hands up and dancing a little closer to the green-skinned, red-headed cadet in front of her. Gaila smiled back over her shoulder, and pulled Santana Lopez in to their little group. The latino girl was smirking evilly, and thoroughly enjoying herself.

Another redhead, Amy Pond, was happily shaking her hips and downing shots to match slayer Faith LeHane, apprentice wizard Molly Carpenter, hunter Jo Harvelle, and wrestler-turned-glee-clubber Lauren Zizes, as they all kept bursting into giggles and the room spun around them.

Hawkgirl, Supergirl and Catwoman had ignored the more "mature" costumed females and were dancing for all they were worth.

"Don't get me wrong!" Catwoman exclaimed. "I love the man, I do. But if this is what happens when Bruce goes missing, I don't really mind!"

All the other women on the floor laughed and kept bouncing to the beat.

Zoe turned back to Uhura and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said the green chick was _always_ this way?"

The Communications Officer glared. "She is. But without Jim to distract her, she's acting even worse."

Hermione tapped the table to regain the attention of the two, then held up her quill. "Who else is missing? We still haven't determined all of the universes involved in this confusion."

Peering around, Zoe nodded at another group. "Well, you can add the Glee 'verse as well."

Three girls and two women stood on the karaoke stage, fighting over the microphones.

"Come now, dear, I've had far more experience than you," Martha Rodgers spoke down to the small brunette.

In turn, Rachel Berry bared her teeth in a confrontational smile. "Exactly. You've had _years_ and _years_ of life and time to perform. I'm just beginning! Which is why_ I- should- get- to- sing- first!_" Her last words were punctuated by the back-and-forth tugging on the microphone.

On the other half of the stage, Mercedes Jones, Sunshine Corazon and Sybil Trelawney were all glowering at one another. No one had moved to grab the mike they were circled around, yet. So far, all they had exchanged was words.

"Children, surely this gathering can benefit more from my gift of the Sight than your singing." The googly eyes behind the professor's enormous glasses blinked several times, and she twisted her hands together.

Mercedes stood proud, hands on hips. "Hell no! I am blowing this mother, and makin' sure we can at least enjoy ourselves 'til our boys get back."

The tiny Eurasian girl moved half a step closer to the microphone stand, and two hands shot out, each taking tight hold of an arm.

"Back off, traitor," Mercedes growled.

Trelawney's angry look was exaggerated by the spectacles she wore. "You are not helping, Corazon."

Sunshine pouted furiously. "You're both only saying that because you know I would be the best one to keep everyone entertained and happy."

Then they went back to trying to stare one another down.

The largest gathering all sat calmly around in a lounge area, more annoyed than worried.

"So, does this happen a lot?" Abigail Lytar asked, only a little surprised.

"All ze time," Fleur Delacour-Wesley huffed, at the same time as Mary Morsten grimaced. "Holmes is the cause of this. James would never run off without so much as telling me, unless it was that insane detective getting himself into trouble. Again."

Mrs. Hudson sipped at her cup of tea. "I can certainly agree with that, Miss Mary."

To which Linda Park-West leaned in. "Well that must be nice. For me, my husband is generally the one _leading_ the mischief that gets them all into awkward situations. I love him, I do. He just has the alarming tendency of doing things on a whim."

Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Stacy Warner, and Jenny Dever(*) were all comparing notes.

"He purposefully makes his patients angry?" Emily questioned Stacy.

The older brunette smiled ruefully. "He certainly does. Ass. What about you? Do you have anyone like that on your team? You said you were with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, right?"

"Yes, we are," JJ replied. "But no one on our team would act that way. Spence occasionally causes headaches to those who don't know him as well, but never on purpose. He has a tendency to lose himself in streams of facts."

With a snort, Jenny chimed in. "Kevin does that too!"

"Yes, well, does he start babbling on about medieval ballads involving Death, or a statistical analysis of the difference between an organized and a disorganized serial killer?"

"Not… so much," Jenny responded.

Maggie Collins spoke up. "Sounds a bit like Nate, actually. My ex-husband. That man's mind is stocked full of all sorts of useless information. He once spent an entire evening describing the best way to forge a set of 600 year old scrolls."

Beside Maggie, Tina Cohen-Chang and Quinn Fabray were doing their best to keep their guidance counselor, Emma Pillsbury, distracted from how disgusting the floor of the club looked.

"Do you suppose this is another dumb, "boys vs. girls" thing?" Quinn tilted her head, focusing her gaze right on Miss Pillsbury, purposefully sending the doe-eyed woman into a mini-panic for not knowing the answer.

Tina rolled her eyes. "If so, Mr. Schue's not going to enjoy his evening."

"What do you mean?" Padme Amidala asked, confused.

"Kurt," both girls spoke together. They grinned, and Quinn continued.

"Kurt is our resident gay diva, and we girls all adore him, and he loves spending time with us. And we had a bunch of plans for today, leading up to Mean Girls-and-makeovers night. He's been planning this for three weeks."

"Which means," Tina took over. "-if Mr. Schue just up and kidnapped him for a boys vs. girls contest, he's going to rip our dear teacher a new one."

"Well, my bets on the Winchester boys," Ellen Harvelle scowled. "Those two are a bit too much like their daddy. They're liable to end up dead, _again_, if they don't learn how _not_ to jump right into the middle of things."

Lisa Braeden lifted her drink in agreement. "That's them, alright."

"What else?" Hermione paused in her writing.

"Well, I can see Inara over there in that huddle with the brunette from the Leverage 'verse," Zoe pointed.

The witch took a moment to view the women sitting together at the bar and her eyes went wide. "That is quite possibly the worst bunch of ladies who could decide to spend time together."

"I agree," Uhura stated.

"-which was how I got him to sign over all his shares of the corporation to me," Sophie Deveraux smiled triumphantly.

"You certainly have all the right tricks," Irene Adler approved, sipping slowly from her glass of wine.

With a sneer, Saffron began, "Not bad. But that is nothing compared to the time I-"

"Don't believe a word she says," Inara Sera broke in, a disgusted and disappointed gaze aimed at the redhead. "She lies, all the time. And, from what I've heard you ladies describe, she does it nowhere near as well."

Saffron smirked. "Your sexually frustrated captain certainly believed me long enough."

The dark beauty in the red sarong chuckled politely. "That's because Mal is an idiot." She ignored the woman's protests, grabbing her arm and pushing her in the direction of a distant table, before turning to the other females. "You were speaking about the trouble of tricking a wizard, I believe?"

The White Court vampire Lara Raith, the fallen angel Lasciel, and the powerful fae the Leanansidhe exchanged similar glances of disbelief and annoyance.

"You have no idea," Lara answered, pursing her lips.

Lea touched her glass, magically filling it with Winter Wine. "I actually believed I would have him, body and soul, once. I was not young, merely foolish."

"Harry Dresden is, indeed, a worthy adversary," Lasciel reclined against the bar. "He withstood my temptations for three years, and even managed to turn my shadow against me."

"That must be quite a man," Irene spoke softly.

"Indeed," the fae woman grinned. "He is a most excellent godson."

"You know," Sophie considered. "I think if all six of us decided to, say, rob the Louvre, I'm sure we could work that out easily enough."

At that, all the ladies let predatory smiles slip onto their lush lips.

"There is that, yes," Irene affirmed, winking at the British grifter. "There is that, indeed."

"You think _that_ group's something to worry about?" Zoe noted, coming to her feet as she tried to see through the odd lighting of the club. "Have you noticed who's missing from the different fandoms yet, but I _know_ they were here earlier?"

Hermione and Uhura both glanced up from the list, puzzled. "No," the young witch said. "Who?"

Zoe pulled out a different piece of paper, jotted down a series of names, then passed it across to the two.

They studied it and immediately wondered whether they shouldn't put off worrying about the missing men, in exchange for finding and breaking up these females.

_River Tam, Drusilla, Parker, "Mr. Yang", Luna Lovegood, Brittany S. Pierce, Justine, Bellatrix LeStrange._

At the matching expressions on Hermione and Uhura's faces, Zoe shrugs. "Exactly. Every addled brainpan in this gathering has got together and apparently disappeared. So I s'pose this means if we hear any gunfire or explosions, we'll know where to find 'em."

"Bollocks," Hermione cursed. "I did not sign up for this."

Uhura sighed. "Me neither. Can't say we shouldn't have been prepared for that, though."

"Can't say," Zoe echoed.

The other gals scattered around the room included the grouping of the "women in positions of power and authority in male dominated environments", consisting of Chief Karen Vick, Wonder Woman, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Molly Weasley, Coach Sue Sylvester, Captain Anastasia Luccio, and Doctor Lisa Cuddy.

To their left was the "unwanted bitches" table, which the vampiress Darla, Doctor Amber Volakis, witches Pansy Parkinson, Rita Skeeter and Cho Chang, the demons Ruby and Meg Masters, con women Bela Talbot and Saffron (who had been relocated by Inara to a table "more appropriate to your skill set"), and the Senior Partners liaison Eve Thompson(*), all sat at. None of them appeared pleased with the company.

Standing in a group near the exit were the "legitimate doctors", Doctor Martha Jones, Doctor Allison Cameron, Doctor Laine Parish, and Nurse Christine Chapel, who were trading notes on different cases they had worked.

"The brains" sat in a circle on the carpeted floor, close to the stage, telling witty jokes that would fly over the heads of most everyone else in the building. This assemblage was made of Toshiko Saito, Suzie Costello, Winifred "Fred" Burkle, Willow Rosenberg, Penelope Garcia, Kaywinnit Lee "Kaylee" Frye, and Barbara "Oracle" Gordan.

One group had migrated out to the parking lot early, to compare fighting styles and stories. Led by Buffy Summers, Head Slayer, she had decided to practice grappling with Black Canary, while Susan Rodriguez faced off with another slayer, Kendra, and Rose Tyler, Gwen Cooper, and Elle Greenaway had a marksmanship competition. Watching, but not participating were Lois Lane, Leia Skywalker, and Cordelia Chase.

On the roof of the club sat the three girls who were laughing at the confusion of their "seniors".

Ginny Weasley turned to Dawn Summers. "It's really their own fault."

Alexis Castle giggled. "Seriously, which of them thought it would be a good idea to start this whole "fanfiction" thing?"

Hanging her head, Dawn raised a hand. "I'm pretty sure it was Buffy. She read one too many of the Watchers' journals that talked about Angelus and Spike's "undefined relationship". And Willow was the one who helped her set it up on the internet."

"Shame!" the other two girls yelled, then lost it.

When they finally found their breath again, Alexis tipped her head back. "Think we should have told those hot Winchester guys that some of the ones writing the worst slash fics are in this building?"

Ginny shook her head decisively. "No. Definitely not. We didn't even tell them that any of the women even _know_ about the different fan universes, let alone fanfiction. That would take too long, and I doubt we could explain very much before Dean and Sam started shooting at people."

"Preach!" Dawn nodded.

"Well, it should be interesting to see what the guys come up with to make the fangirls pay," Alexis grinned.

And they all sat back to enjoy the rest of the evening.

**tbc…**

_a/n sorry if this wasn't what you were hoping for, but this idea just hit me and I couldn't pass up the chance to write the women all knowing each other, and knowing about fanfiction. the names marked (*) means that the characters, as far as I'm aware, are never actually given a last name. thus, I used the names of the actress who play the character. also, in case you are wondering why SOME female characters are apparently back from the dead, but not all, I'm really still doing this on a whim, so it just depends on who comes to mind._

_a/n2 if you noticed that a few men were mentioned as missing, but didn't show up in the first chapter at the Slash Meeting, there is a reason! but you'll have to wait for it to be revealed. *evil giggle*_


	3. A Piacere al Brillante

**When the Fourth Wall Comes Down**

_a/n A quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and put this crazy piece on story alert. You make me smile. A lot. *wink* Also, there is a nod in here to two of my favorite authors here on fanfiction (one of whom was even kind enough to review). InSilva and otherhawk, this one's for you guys!_

**A Piacere al Brillante**

Nine characters sat together, just in front of the stage.

They were not female, and so should have been at a certain meeting of highly embarrassed and appalled (or, in the case of a few, like Jim Kirk and Thomas Raith, highly entertained) males.

Instead, they were here, relaxing in _Caritas_, the club owned by one of their number, listening to demons, vampires, and even the occasional human, get up and belt out a song or two into the karaoke mike.

Lorne, also called "The Host", was dressed in a snappy suit of bright yellow and pale orange that clashed horribly with his pebbled green skin, and red eyes and horns. He was mostly focused on the performers, with only half an ear tuned in to the conversation of his friends.

The archangel Gabriel, who was known more commonly as Loki and The Trickster, was happily accepting one lemon drop after another from the now-deceased (but not out of the game!) ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, as the two discussed their favorite pranks and sweets.

James Sterling, once an insurance claims investigator for IYS, now a despised-but-successful member of Interpol, wore a suit as sharp as the comments he kept tossing at the man on his left. The famous author of the Derek Storm and Nikki Heat books, simply kept smiling. Clearly, Sterling's attempts to needle Castle were going nowhere, and the writer was busy avidly studying the bustling crowd of supernatural beings that were packed into the club.

As one particular creature walked past -clearly female, with golden hair, purple skin, a matching evening gown, and a pair of curly horns popping from her forehead above pure black eyes- Castle unconsciously reached for the nearest paper and writing utensil. (In this case, this was a _Caritas_ napkin and the fountain pen Sterling had been pointlessly tapping on the table.) With his tools in hand, the writer bent and began to scribble furiously across the napkin.

His companion greeted this development with an annoyed frown, and gestured to the passing barmaid for a refill.

Seated between Castle and Dumbledore were three more men. The first male was the redheaded Scotsman whose official title was Chief Engineer of the USS Enterprise. Montgomery Scott, who preferred to go by "Scotty", sat back, drink in hand, watching in endless amusement as his friends conversed. One was a genius, a musician, an honorary "Scoobie", and a werewolf - Daniel "Oz" Osbourne, whose calm attitude directly challenged his current "punk" attire, including hair which had (once again) been dyed black. The other was a former British prime minister, who had been elected in the guise of Harold Saxon. Eventually, he had been exposed as the mad, occasionally evil Time Lord called simply "The Master".

The discussion occurring seemed to consist of The Master arguing for world domination, and perhaps eventual destruction. Oz was cooly meeting him at every turn, using logic, science and even philosophy (as well as the occasional song line) to contradict the Time Lord's plans. And Scotty happily sat back to observe, chuckles escaping every now and then at Oz's soft words, or The Master's face when it turned certain shades of purple and red in frustration and impotent fury.

The last two men lounged side-by-side, and the way they moved and talked and dazzled together made them seem to share one mind in two bodies. The one on the left was a few years older, dark and debonair with the countenance and charisma of a classic, black-and-white era movie star. The second was golden and gorgeous, his smile lighting the room, and a beauty and appeal that might be defined as almost god-like, by some. And he was continuously eating, now and again making eloquent, pleased sounds that were almost sexual in nature, when he took an apparently wonderful bite.

Sterling listened to the noises with disgust, before staring at the man, his brow wrinkling in confusion. Turning to Castle, he slowly asked, "Isn't that a milkshake?"

Abandoning his writing to view the scene, Castle grinned widely. "Strawberry, I think."

The Interpol agent rolled his eyes and pushed on."Where the hell did they get that then? We're in a demon bar that serves all sorts of alcohol, in combination with some truly disturbing bar snacks - this isn't McDonald's."

The author thought back for a moment, then let loose a little snicker. "As I recall, Danny was dashing, Rusty was ravishing, and I think the poor, little half-demon they used their combined charm on actually abandoned her job and spot at the bar to run out and buy it from the nearest burger joint."

Sterling shook his head in disbelief. "They're worse than Nate's lot."

Castle winked. "And just think. They've got another nine crew members to pull off jobs."

"Thank bloody hell they aren't from my 'verse," the former IYS employee spoke fervently.

Danny, apparently having heard, smiled easily and announced, "It's true that we can't all be lucky enough to have the dogged James Sterling on our tails, day in and day out."

Rusty paused, a spoonful of his frozen treat half-way to his lips. "You know, we could make that work. With a Bourbon Street twist, anyway. If we could just get him to-"

"But he doesn't speak Russian!"

"You don't have to _speak_ Russian to pull off a Russian Pinwheel, Danny. Now, jut picture that, combined with a Jean Jeanie-"

"You're not thinking-"

"-and a double-"

"-Violet Descry? We'd need the hat-"

"Which Saul has-"

"-and a puppy-"

"Which Bash could find, easy."

"-not to mention the Ferrari."

"Oh, definitely."

Both con men turned their considering gazes from one another, onto Sterling, a terrifyingly speculative gleam bright in those eyes.

The Brit felt a shiver run down his spine.

"No," he growled, furious and a little scared. "Whatever you two might be planning, you leave me _well_ out of it. There's not a single, bloody chance in _hell_ I'd be part of anything to do with you criminals, except your damned capture!"

Rusty merely smiled. "Of course not."

"We would never-" Danny picked up.

"-never, _ever_-" the blond echoed.

"-it would be-"

"-completely-"

"-unthinkable-"

"-unacceptable-"

"-unprofessional-"

"-not to mention a really bad idea," the older one finished.

But none of their reassurances could be trusted, when considered in combination with the too-innocent expressions both wore.

"Bugger," Sterling muttered, before bringing his glass to his mouth and gulping down the last of the liquid it contained.

Going back to the original topic of the night, Rusty spoke. "Y'know, I still don't see what the big deal is." Slurping, he finished off his shake, and before he could even start looking, Danny was pushing a boat of fries at his partner.

"Well, of course _you_ don't," Oz shrugged. "You and Danny go out of your way to be enigmatic. You already expect people to assume you're a couple, so really it _shouldn't_ bother you. Not to mention you were previously aware of the whole fanfiction movement. For all the guys the Winchesters just grabbed, it was a shock. Particularly if they're either firm in their sexuality, and thus offended by being portrayed otherwise; Or if they're still coming to terms with their sexuality, in which case having it called out publicly like that is sure to send them spinning into a deep state of denial."

"Look, sweeties," Lorne stepped in, bemused. "Personally, I have no problem with the whole slashy thing, and you know that. What I _do_ have an issue with is those Winchester boys - Yeesh! Considering their history with things they didn't like, and then add in folks like Angelcakes and Spikey, and you've character-napped a volatile mixture of men who should really have the fankiddies running for the hills."

"Well, yes-" started Rusty.

"-there is that," Danny finished.

"Ah, com'mon, Lorney," Gabriel teased. "Lighten up. Sure, Sammy and Deano can be crabby, in certain circumstances. But those two aren't exactly what I'd call planners." Popping a new sucker into his mouth, the trickster waggled his eyebrows jokingly.

"I find it is always best not to underestimate those one thinks are less aware or able than oneself," Dumbledore chimed in.

The group considered the sage advice for a moment.

Then The Master started cackling, Sterling rolled his eyes, Castle scoffed loudly, Scotty barked out a laugh, and Lorne's phone began to trill.

"Hello?"

There was a pause, then the Pylean demon grinned widely, and a little desperately. "Hey, there, Angelcakes! What's happening?… Really? Huh… Well, I don't know if I would categorize that as _evil_, exactly, but- …No, I've never read the Watcher Diaries, what does that have to do with-? …Well, Spikey-boy is a charismatic vamp, I don't see any reason why someone wouldn't fall for- …What? No, I've never written this fanfiction stuff… _No_, I'd never even heard of it before now! Wait, you said you were in some different dimension, right? …Yeah, well, that's some seriously high-class cell reception you've got going-"

Lorne pulled the phone away from his ear, and snapped it shut with an expression of wounded pride. "He hung up on me," the club owner pouted.

"And you out-and-out lied to him," Oz commented.

"Very true," Sterling added. "After all, our little gentlemen's club has known from nearly the first day."

"Which makes _you_ just one more of us conniving bastards," chortled Gabriel.

"Nonsense," Rusty broke in, pointing a fry at the trickster. "We're not _all_ bastards. I mean, sure, I can be conniving-"

"-oh, you most certainly are."

"Yeah, sure, but-"

"-_but_ he's not a bastard," Danny declared, taking a sip of his drink.

Then the two shared a look. "Well," the brunet amended. "Unless he needs to be-"

"-for a job-"

"-or a good price-"

"-or the right outfit-"

"-or that time at the Louvre-"

"-or around Terry-"

"Dunno if that counts, since _everyone's _a bastard around Terry-"

"-considering what a complete bastard he is."

"Are the two o'yeh about done?" Scotty enquired, finding such exchanges entertained, yet unending.

"Yes." "No." They answered simultaneously, then shrugged and said, at the same time, "For now."

The Master tapped his finger on the table in an oddly familiar rhythm. "I'm still not certain why I don't just torture and kill you."

That caused Dumbledore to smile kindly, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "We are all quite masterful conversationalists, and we do not take it personally when you thoughtlessly threaten us with bodily harm and death."

"There is that," Oz conversationally agreed.

"Yes, yes, we're all friends," Sterling butted in. "Now what the hell are we going to do about the fanfiction issue?"

"I vote we sit back and enjoy the show," Castle answered mischievously, stretching out in his chair.

"Second." "And I'll third." Danny and Rusty added their two cents.

"And, of course, deny all previous knowledge if the question comes up," Oz chimed back in.

Scotty, Sterling, The Master, Dumbledore and Lorne all considered, then nodded.

As they turned their attention back to the stage, Oz asked, "Someone's recording them, right?"

Dumbledore nodded wisely, and The Master's grin was vicious. "Magical sources and future muggle technology provided by our Time Lord friend here have been employed for that exact purpose," the wizard assured him.

"Good," the werewolf smiled. "I would not want to miss that."

_a/n 2: That's right, my ducklings! I have added an entirely _**new**_ fandom to this doozy of a fic! Am I absolutely insane? …must be. But I Couldn't Help It! DannyandRusty are just about the best thing EVER. *wink*_

_And we should be getting back to the Winchester Brothers Present the Meeting of the Vengefully Slashed with the next chapter. *snort* Meanwhile, I shall endeavor not to have my brain explode every time I attempt to consider or work on this story. It's seriously getting old, having to clean the brain matter of my computer screen… *helpless giggle* Okay, no, seriously, bye!_


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